Back in the U.S.S.A

You don't know how lucky you may be, eh. My flight was manky, in the parlance of our times. Lot's of turbulence, which scares me more and more these days. I also counted three people crying on the plane, and none of them were children. In fact the kids on the plane were all pretty cool, I heard several 'assas' during the rough patches and a heartfelt 'Chemita" ("It's fun/interesting") once we landed. One Korean chick screamed "Help me!" just before the plane took off. A flight attendant came running over to her. It turns out she wanted to stick something in the overhead bin but couldn't reach. It was quite a scene, as she stood up, yelled, then retreated a few steps and finally sat down once her bag was packed securely in the overhead bin. I can only imagine her horrified reaction when she opened the bin afterward and discovered that her items may have shifted during the flight. Some army dude had to comfort his girlfriend when she started bawling uncontrollably as the plane began its descent. I think it was because her ears were popping and she didn't have any gum. I ended up staring at her for a good 5 minutes wishing she would move her head because there was apparently an amazing view of the Golden Gate Bridge just beyond her convulsing melon. I'm quite the sympathetic traveler, I know. Speaking of bawling, or balling as it were, I played some hoops at my alma mater tonight, and despite the frequent cramping in my calves and the enormous rip in my shorts, which I failed to notice in an entire year in South Korea, was great fun. Saw a few people I haven't seen in years, many of whom are gainfully unemployed with outstanding beer bellies. But in general they're good men, and thorough (In the parlance of our times). Monday, the day I arrived, was a spectacular day in San Francisco, which eased the transition a bit. Another thing that helped was sleeping, which I was able to do only after staying up all day, making sweet, sweet love to my new playstation 2. My room here is a mess, filled with the remnants of my former life here, but mostly with crap that I've been ordering from e-bay for the past year. One of my students from my school e-mailed me already. Though I'm plagiarizing liberally, I will retransmit it in its entirety: "hi andy im daegyung. nice meet you. be happy." Excuse me as I wax sentimental, but you know Dae Gyoung, it's nice meet you too, buddy. And I'm doing my best to be happy, little man, but it's a hell of a lot harder without you and your tiny yellow compatriots keeping me bemused and infuriated. And so on and so forth. Another thing that would make me happy is if Eileen teacher hadn't so callously knicked (in the parlance of our times) my black hat. Can't say I'm pleased with that development, that hat survived 2 angst-riddled years of high school, four marijuana-addled years of University and a wild one year sojourn in South Korea (It had one-day to retirement!) only to meet its apparent end at the hands of black hearted (and now black-hatted) Irene teacher. And after I gave her the most precious gift of all, my firstborn Jewish child, male heir to the Empire of Andrew (which is now short one stunning black hat). And by that I of course mean my cell-phone, that jewish child of advanced Korean technology. The humanity, Eileen, the humanity. All is forgiven, I suppose, but in my heart I don't really mean that. One thing that my room is lacking is an adequate source of light, as only one of the six lamps I keep in my room currently has a light bulb, and this I find frustrating. My mom told me she has some at her antique shop, but apparently they're lying in a drawer in an 19th century French armoire, underneath a ming-dynasty Chinese elephant that shakes when the drawer is opened, so I must keep on hand on the elephant while gingerly remove the lightbulbs, yada yada yada. I have to buy some lighbulbs tomorrow. Otherwise, living in the frigid converted porch at my mom's gaff (in the parlance of our times) is fucking awesome man. And I don't mean that at all, though I love my mommy very much, and I wish all my friends in South Korea could meet her one day because she is really cute and her accent rocks, and then I could do my impression of her all the time, increasing my funniness seven-fold. Actually I don't think she should meet any Korean people, because the misunderstandings in that conversation would be epic, but still the idea is strangely compelling, I must admit. Also apparently there was some sort of Mayoral election today that I was meant to vote in today, but I think I'm still too jetlagged to involve myself in politics right now/ ever. Plus I'm confident that Governor Shwarzenneger will handle all the duties that the mayor is meant to handle with tact, grace, ass-kicking flare and an indecipherable accent to boot. Otherwise, I'm happy to be home, though I do have a regrets about leaving so many good people (and thorough) in my South Korean wake. Dae Gyoung's grammatically potent, lower case, two-word overture for my contentment seems to be coming to fruition, at least for the 48 hours I've been here. My car battery is dead, and my mom left the registration renewal letter unopened and unpaid for a year, but that's hardly tragic. Tomorrow I'll be thrust once again into the high-stake bourgeois circus that is the art and antique scene for a soiree at my mom's shop, and though it will assuredly suck, there's sure to be plenty of white wine to be had. California white wine that is. Also I see my father for the first time in months, to be followed by some blood tests at the hospital. Jealous? Come on, speak up. You're just lying to yourself if you don't want to be screened for syphilis, and yellow fever, that compliant, subservient killer of white men. So enough, that is the state of things right now, for whatever it's worth. I miss everyone I left behind, but Buddha willing, I'll see you all soon.